Archive of Our Own

Angry tears begin to sting her eyes half-way home.

Chloe blinks and bites the insides of her cheeks to keep them at bay. She will not be crying while driving, and she will definitely not be crying because of Lucifer Morningstar.

The events of today flash through her mind. The resolution of their case, talking to Michaels about Lux, the giddiness and joy she felt as he handed her the papers, almost impossibly fast. The anticipation that curled tight and warm in her belly when she walked into Lux to find Lucifer brooding at the piano.

His smile, the disbelief and wonder in his eyes as she told him his home would not be demolished and turned into a mega mall. The dinner invitation. Friends help each other out, he echoed her words.

Friends.

Chloe hoped when she should’ve known better.

She really should’ve known better.

A tear escapes and she angrily wipes it from her cheek. It’s not like she wanted more. And even if she did—it’s okay if the person she lies to is herself, no one else needs to know—he’s not the kind of guy who wants the same things.

They’re different. There is no bridging that distance. It benefits them in their working relationship, in their friendship when his looseness and extraversion help her let go and have some fun every once in a while, but that’s where it ends.

It’s for the best, really, Chloe tells herself and pretends to believe it.

They’re different, that’s just how it is. She will be fine. She can nip this foolish, fanciful idea of them in the bud and make life easier for everyone. Lucifer will show up for work tomorrow, with an excuse that’s actually someone’s name, she’ll tell him to save it and pretend it doesn’t hurt, and that’ll be the end of it.

Except, no, it won’t, because tomorrow is the first day of the trial, which Chloe is sure he doesn’t even know about. Fucking timing. She presses her lips together as she pulls over, this also has to be for the best.

Her feet ache. The heels she’s wearing are new, not quite broken in yet. The pain distracts her from the stubborn and most unwelcome longing, wrapped around her heart like a vine. Opening her door, she kicks off the shoes, then reaches for the light switch.

“Detective!”

Heart dropping all the way down to the wooden floor, Chloe nearly jumps out of her skin. “Fuck!” He’s lucky she doesn’t have her gun on her.

“I’ve been called worse,” Lucifer says, pushing himself from the couch and strutting towards her like he has any right to even be here. “Or better, depends on how you mean it. You’re home! Finally!”

With a hand on her chest, Chloe stares at him. On the way home, anger gave way to acceptance, but now it’s pushing front and center again. Has he been here the whole time she’s been there? Waiting for him to show up? Enduring pitiful glances at so obviously having been stood up? The sheer fucking audacity of this man.

“What the fuck, Lucifer?” Chloe says, not even caring how hostile she sounds. She’ll give him one chance to explain himself, one, and only because he’s never really let her down before. But if his explanation isn’t a literal life and death situation, God help him. Or her.

His mouth opens then closes. Suddenly, Lucifer looks like a fish on the wet sand that Trixie always carefully pushes back into the ocean. One single chance, she thinks viciously. This puppy dog act will not sway her.

“I think I might be in love with you,” he blurts.

Everything grinds to a halt.

Chloe is not completely sure, but the entire planet may have stopped spinning. The stars may have stopped shining and burning. The supernovae may have frozen in their explosive glory.

She hears a noise. It takes her a moment to realize she’s the one who made it. It’s a small sound that has him furrowing his brows. Lips dry, she licks them. His Adam’s apple bobs. “Uh, there seems to be something wrong with my ears, because for a second”—or has it been hours? Who knows how time works when the universe is on pause—“I thought you said-”

“That I might be in love with you?” Dumbfounded, Chloe nods. Lucifer nods as well. “Yes, I did say that. Congratulations, Detective, your ears appear to be in perfect working order.”

“Uh,” Chloe says again. Her fridge kicks in. Lucifer keeps staring at her. His eyes grow wider. One of them might be going into shock. “Uh, are you sure?”

He throws up his hands. “What part of this”—he points at himself, drawing a wide circle to encompass his head and torso—“says I have any bloody idea what’s going on?”

Prompted, Chloe looks him over. Aside from his slightly disheveled hair, which is consistent with it being late in the evening, Lucifer looks annoyingly put together. As he always does. Except apart from the other week when he tried to get himself killed. Which was totally just one of those days. Right?

All at once it’s as if someone presses play and her brain kicks into overdrive.

Lucifer Morningstar thinks he might be in love with her?

What the fuck? What the fuck? But like… in a good way? Some distant part of her is grateful she’s not wearing the heels anymore, or she might have keeled over, her knees feel like jelly. In love? With her?

Quickly, events of their relationship play out in her memory, flashing before her eyes. Strangers to partners to friends. To right now.

“Well, say something,” he forces out, voice hoarse, when the pause grows too loud, ringing in her ears.

“You stood me up,” Chloe says and blinks in surprise. She wasn’t even thinking about their failed not date anymore. There are far more pressing matters to think about, like whether or not she’s in love with him.

Oh.

What if she is?

Her mouth is drier than a desert now. Lucifer blinks like an owl. Do owls live in deserts? Chloe wonders absentmindedly before shaking herself out of it. Who the fuck knows. Who the fuck cares.  

“I did, didn’t I? Detective, I… I apologize. I’ve been having, uh, a crisis. As you can very well tell.”

Unexpectedly, it hurts. The small, rational part of her that’s rapidly being overridden by the panicky and confused part, whispers that he probably doesn’t mean it like that, but it does nothing to lessen the hurt. “Is it really that bad?” Chloe says, feeling insignificant and wrong. “To be in love with me?”

She doesn’t have a long romantic history, and the last person chose his career over his wife and daughter, spending months gaslighting her. So maybe she’s not the most experienced, but that just doesn’t sound like something someone would do to the person they loved.

And now Lucifer says he’s having a crisis?

What is wrong with her?

Lucifer pales. “Bloody hell. No. Detective. That’s not-” He rubs both hands on his face before sliding them up into his hair, messing it up further. “It’s not you. It’s me. It’s literally me, I promise.”

Swallowing hard, Chloe nods. The absurdity of the situation and the embarrassment make her hyper aware of how short her skirt is, showing more of her legs than she’s used to. Consciously, she tugs her sweater down a little, not that it helps in the slightest. The only thing it does is catch Lucifer’s attention.

Which is a red flag, him not noticing her outfit right away. He really must be going through it.

“Oh.” A smile lights up his face for a moment before it gives way to something softer. Like he’s seeing the sky full of stars for the very first time. “You look lovely, Detective. Which is why you’re wrong.” What? “You’re lovely, and beautiful, and smart. Any dingus with half a brain should consider themselves lucky to be in love with you.”

“Dingus?”

“Right, of course. You deserve way more than a dingus. Detective, you have to promise me to never settle for another dingus like Daniel. You deserve someone better because…” She has no idea what he reads in her expression, but he takes a step forward, reaching for her with both hands; he doesn’t touch her. “You, Detective, are selfless. To a nauseating degree. A proper poster child for the sacrificial society recruitment advertisement.”

“Uh.”

“And speaking of, you always put your daughter first. Though she could learn a thing or two from her mother. The ungrateful urchin doesn’t even pay rent, for Dad’s sake. You fight for justice and though every crime scene breaks your heart, the thought of changing jobs doesn’t even cross your mind. You saved Lux when you didn’t have to! You didn’t even ask for anything in return, you just… did it. Because you… you care. Detective. You care with every cell of your beautiful body.”

An involuntary smile tugs on her lips. He’s babbling. He’s also freaking out, which is something she never really thought him, Mr Devil May Care Who Is Always Put Together, be capable of, but it’s kind of sweet. Even if he’d hate to be called sweet.

“Oh,” Lucifer says, pausing. Chloe holds her breath. Oh what? Oh good? Oh bad? “Of course. It actually makes sense now that I’ve put it like that.”

That makes one of them. “It does?”

“Yes.” He nods, something almost dreamy in his expression. Awed. “You’re, well, wonderful. And I am not a dingus with half a brain. Yes, it makes sense. If I were in love, then of course I’d be in love with you.”

“Somehow I feel like I should be insulted,” Chloe murmurs. Should she really? Is she not like the other girls? Is he putting her on a pedestal? But she’s just… her. Chloe Decker, a detective and a single mom, a little messy and a little lonely. “There are many wonderful and smart and selfless people in the world.” Is she trying to talk him out of… being in love with her? What the fuck? What the fuck?  

Lucifer waves his hand. “Probably. But you’re special.”

“I am?”

“Of course, you are. You… You shine, Detective. More dazzling than any of the stars I’ve had the pleasure to light up. When I’m with you, everything is… brighter.” A soft, wistful smile plays on his lips. His words touch the deep, wounded parts of her soul. Whatever else he means by lighting up the stars, the sentiment is unmistakable. And Chloe aches.  

It makes her want to take the leap despite the paralyzing fear that it’s going to end just the same. Because what if, just what if it doesn’t? What if this time things will be different? What if they find something wonderful and exciting and real and maybe, just maybe, for the rest of their lives?

A lump forms in her throat, she swallows it down, takes a small step forward. “Are you?”

An eyebrow rises in confusion. “Am I what?”

“In love with me?”

Lucifer huffs, breaking the moment of near palpable wonder between them. “I don’t bloody know! I’ve, well, never been in love before. Honestly, been nearly everywhere in the world at some point in my long life, but in love? It might as well be the Moon. Never been to the bloody Moon either, although I could’ve gone, I suppose, if I wanted to.”

Chloe blinks. “You could’ve gone to the Moon?” Like with Armstrong and Aldrin and Collins? This conversation feels like a rollercoaster.

“Yes.” He looks at her like she’s the weird one. “But that’s beside the point, Detective.”

She’s definitely not the weird one no matter what he thinks, but she might be the one who’s losing it; this is too much to take on an empty stomach. “What is the point?”

Lucifer takes a deep breath. “How do I know if I’m in love with you?”

“Oh.” This is certainly a first for her. It should be fairly self explanatory, but then of course Lucifer is Lucifer. When he says he’s never been in love, Chloe believes him. The man has issues, a whole wagon of them and then a suitcase. They thinly veil a traumatic, or even abusive, childhood or adolescence. The sort of thing that leaves its marks, its scars, its impact. Sometimes for life. She’s a cop, she’s seen it all.

It didn’t take her long to realize that he was hiding behind a facade. That he keeps his gentle and wounded heart behind high, thick walls for safeguarding. Has he ever allowed himself to truly be vulnerable with someone? To not just have sex, but to be intimate? In and out of bed?

She fears the answer might be no. And this crisis? Might really be a first for him. 

His chest moves with shallow breaths, he keeps staring at her, wordlessly, waiting for the answer. 

This is so not the kind of case she’d ever thought she’d be on, but what the hell, Lucifer says he’s the Devil, right? “What, uh, what made you think you might be in the first place?”

“Doctor Linda,” he says in a tone so full of accusation, Chloe almost breaks out in laughter. “As you may remember, earlier today I realized that Lux wasn’t my home. Well, in the most literal sense, yes, it is the place I happen to live in.”

“Right.” She thinks back to their conversation in the club, Lucifer saying goodbye as per his own words. “It was the women who made it home.”

“The people,” Lucifer corrects her, echoing her original suggestion. Chloe’s brows furrow slightly. He moves to the side, gesturing as if to help him convey his words, then turns to her again. “In particular one person. Well, one woman, actually. As I’ve come to realize.”

Her heart speeds up. Despite him talking about possibly actually being in love with her, this feels different somehow. Layered. Safe. Like… home. Swallowing, Chloe takes a step forward. Barefoot, she’s shorter than usual; it’s a little strange, but it thrills her too. “Me?”

Lucifer’s eyes are wide open; he looks at her like he’s seeing her for the first time. “You.”

“Oh.”

“That’s what I said!”

A soft huff falls from her lips. He doesn’t join in. “That’s why you stood me up?”

“I needed to talk to you. Privately,” he says as if it explains everything. Perhaps in his head it does.

“You could’ve called,” Chloe chides gently. The humiliation of the pitiful stares still stings.

Lucifer pats his pockets. “I’m afraid I’ve no idea where my phone is.” He smiles sheepishly. “I am truly sorry for leaving you hanging. If you will allow me, I promise to make it up to you later. But first, I really do need your help, Detective. You are a detective.”

“Uh,” she says again. Definitely a first. Should she mention butterflies as one of the symptoms? Not right away. “Did Linda say anything else?”

He frowns, as if the idea of discussing his crisis with his therapist never occurred to him. “I’ve not much experience with therapists as well, but when it comes to advice, the doctor tends to be vague at best and downright cryptic at worst.”

“Maybe it’s because she wants you to realize things on your own.”

“Have you gone to therapy after all?” Lucifer squints at her, making her snort.

“I have, actually. After my dad… Well, you know.” His expression sobers, he nods. “Anyhow…” Anyhow what exactly? She’s a detective, so she needs all the facts first. “Uh, how do you feel?”

His mouth opens, a shadow of helplessness crossing his face. He spreads out his arms, wide, before clasping his hands together only to immediately release them. A nervous gesture. She can count on the fingers of one hand all the times she’s seen him nervous.

“I don’t know?” Not exactly reassuring. The very first time little Chloe fell in love, she was five years old, so that one probably doesn’t count. But the first real one happened when she was fourteen, pining after the star of a kids’ show. Two episodes of working there had her daydreaming about a forever love for months. Also probably not very relevant. Does Lucifer daydream? “Strange? Tight”—Lucifer points at his ribcage—“around here. Not bad, but it doesn’t go away. I’ve never felt it before. And when I’m with you…”

When I’m with you, everything is brighter.  

The confused vulnerability on his face makes her own heart constrict painfully. Is this real? It hits her, hard and sudden, she wants it to be. Reaching out, Chloe lays her palm on top of his. He looks down at their hands, mouth open and brows furrowed, like maybe it’s hitting him too.

“Detective… How- well, how do you feel?”

Unbidden, Chloe thinks not of her first love, but her last. How it fizzled out. How it ended in lies and gaslighting and her feeling like she could never be enough. Loved for who she is. How much it hurt. “Scared,” she whispers.

Lucifer’s face falls. He slips his hand from under hers, lowering both arms to hang listlessly by his sides; all the nervous energy drains from him at once with this gesture. “Because of who I am.”

“Kinda, yeah.” His lifestyle, endless parades of lovers; no one ever stays and he seems to be okay with it. Prefers it even. But does he really? Is this also a complicated defense mechanism to protect himself while also keeping the illusion of being wanted? No, of actually being wanted—all the people he beds want him—just not for who he really is. For all that he really is.

“I understand, Detective,” Lucifer says, dejected, looking down. 

But what if this works out? Chloe thinks again. It might not, and if it doesn’t, she knows it will hurt. It will hurt a lot. The only way to know is to try, even if it scares her. Especially because it scares her. She might keep her heart safe if she does nothing, but is spending the rest of her life wondering what could’ve been better? 

His hand in hers and on the small of her back as they danced just yesterday. There was nothing but the moment, no one but them. Spinning and laughing in his crowded club, on the verge of losing his home, and the only thing on her mind was how happy he made her feel.

She swallows a lump in her throat. “I’m afraid that if I do feel something for you,” Chloe says, addressing a button on his shirt. “And I take the leap… That it- uh, might not be enough for you.”

That I might not be enough for you, she doesn’t say out loud, but wonders if he hears it.

“Are you bloody mental?” he asks, incredulous. Shocked into looking up, Chloe gapes at him. “Why would you ever think that was even remotely possible?”

“Gee, Lucifer, I don’t know.” Irrationally or not, her defenses rise. “Maybe because you have a new lover warming your bed every night? Or maybe because you never seemed to be interested in a committed romantic relationship? Or maybe because I’m a single mom with an eight year old, a job, and a routine? It’s not very exciting, so you… might… get bored...” With me, hangs there at the end, cut off by her ringing voice. Swallowing hard, Chloe holds onto her self control with her teeth. She will not cry.

Moments stretch. Insecurities grow. When she risks to glance up at him, Lucifer is staring down at her as if she just asked him the question of life, the universe, and everything.

“I- I suppose you’re not wrong,” Lucifer says finally. It feels like all the air is being sucked out of the room. She’s not wrong. “But you’re also not right, Detective.”

Mutely, Chloe shakes her head.

“My bed has been cold more often than it’s been warm the past several weeks. Not cold cold, this is Los Angeles, and I have excellent air conditioning, but you know what I mean. And I suppose I’ve never been interested in a romantic relationship, that’s true. Except I’ve also never been interested in having a best friend. At least not until you barged into my life and so rudely turned everything upside down. That’s what I do. Usually, in bed,” he complains. An involuntary smile tugs on her lips, it earns her a glare, which only makes the smile bigger. Lucifer huffs. “Now I’m sure I don’t need to remind you, but your job is also my job. As for your offspring, well, she’s alright.”

“Alright?” Chloe asks dryly.

“For a small human…” Helplessly, Lucifer shrugs. “Look, the other week she was arguing with me that she was not, in fact, arguing with me.” He shrugs again as if it perfectly explains his point.

Biting the insides of her cheeks, Chloe tries hard not to laugh. “Yeah, uh, she was doing that on purpose.”

“What purpose?”

She does laugh then. “To rile you up.”

Lucifer groans. “I take it back, she’s a little devil.”

“Takes one to know one.”

He narrows his eyes at her, but almost immediately the expression softens. “See?” Reaching out with two fingers, Lucifer touches the back of her hand. “How can I be bored with you? Or your hellish spawn.”

Her heart skips a beat. This is something she thought about late at night, after a glass or two of cheap wine; brief moments of weakness when she allowed herself to dream, to pretend, to fantasize about what could’ve been a life with him, if he wanted her for more than just one night. If Lucifer wanted all nights with her. And all days too.

She never allowed herself to think about it in the light of day, not even when he sometimes smiled at her oh so softly. When it felt like maybe he was wondering the same. Those moments never lasted; his attention would always be stolen by another beautiful stranger wanting his body.

And, if she’s honest with herself, she does want his body too, but she also wants his heart. She wants all of him. His days and nights.

Because she is in love with him.

Swallowing hard, Chloe wills her heart to slow down, but the treacherous organ ignores her command. Being brave is terrifying.

“So you see,” Lucifer repeats, soft and quiet, “I can’t imagine ever being bored with you. Unless there’s paperwork involved, of course. You have an unhealthy fascination with it, Detective, but I can live with it. Actually, I think I can help with it. Well, not the paperwork itself-”

“Lucifer,” Chloe cuts him off, stepping closer. His eyes widen, lips parting in a silent gasp. Could it be that she affects him? As much as he affects her? Silently, she stares up at him.

Under her hand, his heartbeat matches hers.

Rising up on her tiptoes, Chloe kisses him. Lucifer makes a sound of surprise. She feels his hands gesture aimlessly before he presses them to her back, gently pulling her closer into his body. Her fingers tangle in his hair, touching it for the first time; it’s softer than she expected. Another sound escapes him, almost as if ripped from the depths of his soul.

And then Lucifer pulls back. “Detective, are you sure?” His eyes are open wide, pupils dilated. She does have an effect on him. The realization is intoxicating.

“Are you?” Chloe whispers, breathing hard. They’ve only kissed, and already she knows if she’s not careful, he will ruin her for anyone else.

His hands grip her shoulders, a heated intensity in his gaze. “No, this is important. Chloe, are you sure about this?”

Her name on his lips slows everything down. Has he ever called her anything but her title which he so effortlessly turned into a nickname, saying it differently than all the others? Elevating it. Like a caress. 

“Are you sure about me?”

Is she?

“I don’t want to be your one night stand.”

“What a relief, because I don’t want that either.”

Hope battles fear high up inside her ribcage. She searches his dark eyes, finding sincerity, and want, and the same fear echoing her own. Even if he’s never been in love before, he has been hurt. So has she. Both of them have to make this jump, take this risk, trust the other to be there.

She trusts him to watch her back. Does she trust him not to break her heart? Except it’s more than that. If this doesn’t work out, will their friendship, their work partnership survive it? They do so much good together in the field, is risking it fair to all the people who need their help?

But doesn’t she deserve to be happy too?

Doesn’t he?

She presses her lips to his again. Lucifer must accept it as her answer; his hands trail up her body to her face, framing it in a soft caress. A hand moves higher, until he tugs on the hair band, freeing her hair, and cups the back of her head. The casual confidence with which he kisses her weakens her knees. 

All those people you’ve kissed, Chloe thinks fiercely, viciously, surprising herself with the intensity, they were just practice.  

She pushes the jacket off his shoulders, smiles when he grunts, refusing to let go of her. Quickly, before she can react, he does and the jacket falls to the floor. Lucifer bends, sliding one arm under her knees and the other across her back. She lets out a squeal as he lifts her up, seemingly completely effortlessly.

“Bedroom?” he asks, a little breathless.

Chloe nods. “Bed’s good. But I can walk, the stairs aren’t wide enough.” She knows he knows that too, he was the one to point it out after helping her carry some of the boxes upstairs.

Instead of answering, Lucifer gives her a look that screams watch me. Never mind her heart, does she trust him not to accidentally bang her head because he insists on carrying her to the bedroom like it’s a matter of honor? Chloe bites her tongue and draws her legs closer in; they’re about to find out. She presses her forehead to his cheek, but then decides to kiss him there.

A soft huff falls from his lips. Lucifer leans into her, pulls her close. For a brief moment Chloe wonders what he’d do if she challenged him to babysit Trixie. Maybe she will, it’d be fun to watch. Carefully, Lucifer ascends the stairs and when he gets them upstairs without a single part of her body touching the walls, he grins triumphantly at her.

Chloe rolls her eyes. His grin widens. “Show off.”

“Oh, this is nothing,” he says casually. She rolls her eyes again.

In her bedroom, Lucifer gently sets her down. The light is off, the soft yellow glow of the street lamp outside illuminates the room barely enough to see him. His eyes never leave her face, but he doesn’t reach for her. A bizarre thought races through her mind, that he might be a little nervous, but Chloe dismisses it off the bat. Lucifer wouldn’t be nervous, not about sex.

“Detective,” he says seriously, “are you sure?”

She nods. “Am I sure that I want this?” He swallows hard, waiting for her to continue. For a second, Chloe wonders if she’s wrong, if he really is nervous. “Yes, I am.”

“Good.” He nods. Then nods again. Then he’s kissing her, all lips and tongue and teeth. A hand in her hair keeps her close, another slides under her sweater. It finds only a bra, and he thumbs the band under her breast, distracting her from the buttons on his vest. Why must he insist on wearing so many layers all the time?

Frustrated when her fingers refuse to cooperate, Chloe yanks the shirt open. Lucifer pulls back, flushed and grinning. “Yeah, I’m sure you can have it fixed.”

“I’ll just keep it like this, as a reminder.”

Instead of answering, she grabs his face and shuts him up. Lucifer pulls off her sweater, Chloe shoves the shirt off his shoulders. Naked from the waist up, he suddenly stops. She watches his throat bob as he swallows, looking down at her chest, the lacy bra she’s wearing. Chosen with the fleeting hope that refused to be ignored. Their eyes meet. An awed expression plays on his face, soft and vulnerable. It makes her feel brave.

Licking her lips, Chloe steps into him, his eyes never leave hers. “I think I might be in love with you, too,” she whispers. A gasp catches in his throat. His forehead creases, eyebrows drawing together.

“You are?”

She nods. “Yeah.”

“Well, what a wonderful coincidence,” Lucifer says, voice hoarse. Broad palms press to her back, just under the bra, steady and warm. “I might be, too.”

“Yeah.” Chloe smiles, a little giddy. “Sometimes miracles do happen, I guess.”

“Please, do not bring my father into this.”

She pulls back, leaning on his arms. “Weird.”

A shadow of alarm crosses his face. “Is that too much? Is-”

Chloe shushes him. “It’s not too much, it’s… it’s you. And I, well”—she swallows another lump in her throat, grateful for the darkness; it makes it easier to say what she feels—“I know you. And I accept you and all your weirdness.”

Looking like he might be in pain, Lucifer lifts up a hand to her face, brushing a strand behind her ear, so infinitely gentle. It’s too dark to be sure, but she thinks it’s shaking. “Detective, there is a lot of weirdness.”

It’s strange to see him so unsure. But things have changed recently. For him, with the Wes Williams case. For her, with Perry Smith. For them, when he barged in before her alarm. What I'm trying to say is I think he would be proud of you. The way he hugged her. The way he held her when they danced. Today. “Maybe. There is a lot of boring here.” She points at her chest.

Lucifer shakes his head. “I think we’ve already established that you could never be boring.”

Pressing her lips together, Chloe waits for him to realize it. A second passes, then another, then another. Lucifer shakes his head again. She wants to be surprised he doesn’t get it, but she isn’t. She touches his face, thumb brushing his stubbed chin. “Why do you think it’s different for me?”

He opens his mouth but nothing comes out. “Because it would be too easy,” he says finally, honestly. “Nothing is ever easy when it comes to me.”

She’d roll her eyes if anyone else said this, but Lucifer is not just anyone. His complicated past is hidden in shadows, it might never see the light of day. This feels like peeling away yet another layer. Him being open, being vulnerable, with her, it means so much. And if whatever happened to him, whatever hurt him means he needs the reassurances, she’ll give them easily. The doubts, the wonder, the fear of asking; she knows it all too well. She never wants anyone to ever doubt her intentions, her feelings. Least of all him. “Being with you is easy. I like working with you. I like spending my time with you.”

His throat bobs.

“I just hope”—is it a mistake to say it? Is it too much too soon? Is she pushing him into something he’s not ready for? But not saying it wouldn’t be fair either—“that you can let me in. And then whatever it is, I think we can figure it out together. We’ve, uh,” she pauses, unsure and scared, swallowing the insecurities. “We make a pretty good team, don’t we? Why should this be any different?”

The corners of his eyes crinkle; if she dared, Chloe would call the emotions playing on his face disbelief. How much pain is he carrying around? Does he truly not believe that he can be wanted despite the baggage? And yet, she understands. She knows what it’s like and the visceral desire to reassure him like she’d wished to be reassured rises like a tidal wave inside her. She sees the facade, the walls, the defense mechanisms for what they are. 

She sees who he is. A good man. Her best friend.

“It seems too good to be true,” Lucifer murmurs gently. His hands wander up and down her upper arms; an unconscious gesture, Chloe isn’t sure he even registers it. “Like a trap. A ploy.”

Trying not to let it hurt her, she places her own hands on his waist; a connection, a signal, she’s here, she’s here for him. “Why would it be?”

A heartbreakingly sad smile tugs on the corners of his lips. “Because I am the Devil, Detective. And you are… light. So tell me, in what story does the Devil ever get what he desires?”

Swallowing hard, she reaches for his face, framing it in between her hands. His gaze is intense and infinite; whatever he’s searching her eyes for, Chloe hopes he finds it. She has nothing but truth in her heart. “In this one.” Rising up, she presses her lips to his.

Once again, it seems to take Lucifer a moment to react before his arms wrap around her shoulders, slide into her hair, and he’s kissing her back like he never wants to do anything else. She believes him. Moments stretch, Chloe loses the sense of time in between his tongue tangling up with hers, and his long fingers brushing the back of her neck, finding a spot she didn’t know makes her shiver.

Lucifer smiles against her lips; even with her eyes closed, she can feel the good natured smugness. He may doubt what else he can offer, but there are no doubts when it comes to sex; he knows exactly what he’s doing. She pulls back, tugging on his lower lip with her teeth, making him follow her, then narrows her eyes to let him know she’s onto him. Whether it works or not, she doesn’t care. He leans down and kisses her again. She lets him.

Sensations bleed into one another, and soon enough she’s tingling all over; it’s nearly too much and nowhere near enough, a sweet combination. The backs of her knees hit the bed; instinctively, Chloe grasps his shoulders to keep from falling, but gravity does its job too well.

She laughs when Lucifer curses, somehow managing to stop himself from landing squarely on top of her. He’s only partially on top of her, which fills her stomach with too many, too girly butterflies. But one feeling remains the clearest, like breathing in fresh, ocean air, she feels alive.  

His lips stretch in a sheepish smile, and she grins back at him. The fluttering in her belly intensifies, spreading all across her body, to every nerve ending. She hooks her hands behind his head, pulling him down, laughing when Lucifer tries to move them, too distracted to achieve any result. When she’s finally in the middle of the bed and the lamps are on, bathing them in their soft glow, he grins wolfishly at her, then a hand trails down her side, tickling her, making her laugh harder.

In the rare moments when Chloe allowed herself to think of what sleeping with him might actually be like, on the darkest nights when she let her fantasies of a different life roam freely, it was never quite like this. Hard and laser focused and intense; fast and frantic and breath stealing; slow and sensual and time stopping. But this—his lips press to her neck, teeth grazing, drawing a moan from the depth of her being—maybe this is all that and neither. Better. Real.

Her fingers mess up his hair. The thought that she is doing this to him sends a spark of satisfaction down her spine. Lucifer moves lower. Her back arches to press closer to him. With the same singular focus Lucifer lavishes her breasts with attention; tongue, teeth, lips, hands, kissing, nipping, licking, kneading, driving her out of her mind. For a moment Chloe wonders if he’s going to make her come just from that alone.

Tugging on his hair, she pulls him up. Lucifer makes a sound of protest at the back of his throat, but goes willingly, tangling his tongue with hers again. “Pants. Off. Now.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He grins, and Chloe just knows that he’s going to do that again when they’re at work, and she’s going to fight hard not to drag him into the closest semi-private space to have her way with him.

Carefully, Lucifer unzips her skirt, sending her glances full of heat.

“What?”

“As much as I adore your approach of destroying clothes in a hurry to get me naked, I need to see you wearing this again,” he says, fervent, pressing a kiss to her thigh. “For me.”

“You’re a leg man, aren’t you?”

He coos. “Detective, I didn’t know you were taking notes.”

Using her other leg, Chloe bumps it into his, to make him less smug; it doesn’t work. He does look like he’d be happy to have her legs wrapped around him. “I wasn’t. I just have a really good memory.”

“Lucky me.”

Feeling like there’s nothing she can’t do, Chloe lifts herself up. With a hand behind his neck, she pulls him closer. “You stood me up when I almost decided not to wear any panties.”

Lucifer half grins, half chokes. She kisses it off his face. Momentarily distracted, he goes slack as she pushes him to lie on his back before breaking the kiss. She’s so turned on, it’s going to be over the second he touches her, so Chloe mirrors his actions to give herself a moment. Except the sounds he makes, the way his eyes follow her as she kisses down his chest, are terrible at helping her calm down.

His muscles ripple and play as she moves lower, but when her hands clasp the belt buckle, Lucifer tenses under her. Immediately, Chloe slows. “You okay?”

Confusion plays on his face as he nods. “Yes. Yes, I am. Uh, I think I have a condom in my left pocket.”

“Think?”

“Didn’t exactly plan for my crisis to end up here.”

Holding his eyes, Chloe slides her hand into the left pocket of his pants, feeling the hot, hard length of him separated from her skin only by thin, yet very expensive fabric. His mouth opens in a breathless exhale, and another thrill runs down her back.

She finds no condoms. In the right pocket either.

Does she have some in the house? Mortified, Chloe realizes she can’t remember. It’s been a while. She only recently moved here. Did she have some from before the separation? It feels like forever ago. Did she buy some afterwards? That’s definitely a no. At least she’s on the pill, but it’d only protect her from a very unplanned pregnancy.

Whatever shows on her face, Lucifer reads it. Eyes still hooded, he sits up, reaching out to touch her cheek. “Detective, we don’t have to do this now. Or ever. Or we can make it a fun game of delayed gratification until we get some condoms. I’m positive I can call at least ten people who’d deliver them here in under fifteen minutes.” Surprised, not at the offer to stop, but the number of people available to fetch him condoms, Chloe frowns just as a corner of her lip lifts up in amusement. “But despite your little jokes, I am clean, I promise. I’d never put you in harm’s way. Of course, I also don’t need my cock to make you come.”

The pads of his fingers are soft against her skin. Chloe leans into the touch. It does make sense for him to be careful. He sleeps with a lot of people, but not even for a second does she believe he would deliberately endanger her or any of his lovers. That’s not his way. He’s all about fun, and there’s nothing fun about chlamydia. She nods, trusting him. “I’m on the pill.”

Lucifer huffs a laugh. “That is one thing you really don’t have to worry about, Detective. Rest assured, I cannot have offspring.”

“Oh.” The mood drops a little, and she’s not quite sure why. Can’t isn’t quite the same as won’t. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” He frowns. “No, it’s a good thing. Can you imagine me, a father? No, it’s for the best, for me and for any potential sticky creature.”

“Okay. Yeah, okay.” It’s his right, she thinks. Lucifer as a dad is certainly a picture that would require drastic changes in lifestyle and even more therapy, but she does trust him with her kid. Though probably not Trixie’s lightsaber. Or what’s way worse, both of them with their own lightsabers.

Lucifer frowns. His hand drops from her face but he doesn’t withdraw completely, instead he rests it on her knee. “Detective, I am well aware that you and your offspring are a package deal. I accept that. And I want you to know that even despite her stickiness and lack of contribution to your rent, I’d still do anything to protect the little urchin. Even if it means always carrying around wet wipes and hand sanitizers.”

Something releases in her chest with a huff of laughter. His words, his reassurance mean more than Chloe thought. They are a package deal. Her daughter is the most important person to her. Trixie already adores Lucifer, but knowing that despite having no idea how to act around children, he’s still willing to make an effort, it’s… it’s a profound relief.

She nods. “Thank you.”

“Whatever for?”

Instead of replying, Chloe smiles. “I believe we were in the middle of something?”

Lucifer’s face lights up before a smug grin stretches his lips. “Yes, we were,” he murmurs, drawing her into a kiss that steals her breath. It should probably be illegal how good he is at this. Maybe she’ll arrest him. And the images that immediately pop into her head, of Lucifer with his hands cuffed to the bed frame as she takes her sweet time to tease and make him fall apart will stay with her forever.

Maybe next time.

Effortlessly, he takes control; she doesn’t even notice it until she’s lying on her back. Once again, Lucifer pulls away, mapping a trail down her body with his mouth and hands, drawing indecent sounds from her throat. It seems to be his goal, so Chloe tells her sensibilities to shut the hell up. If it’s working for him, what he’s doing is definitely working for her.

And he might be in love with her.  

The thought hits again, like a meteor crashing down to Earth. At her hip, Lucifer grins, slipping her lacy panties down her legs, unaware of the commotion in her brain. Time slows down, all the sensations he’s evoking in her register in a measured way as her pulse thumps in her ears, wild and racing.

And then his mouth is on her, and the bubble bursts.

He doesn’t tease, doesn’t play, doesn’t prolong; he goes straight for it, and Chloe’s back arches. Damn him and all his skills. Distractedly, she hopes she can keep him forever. Partly because of this, and partly because she’s in love with him. But right now, mostly because of what his mouth is doing between her legs.

A flick of his tongue, a twist of his fingers, and it sends her over the edge; she’d feel embarrassed how little it took if she could feel anything but the waves of pleasure rocking her entire body. When Chloe opens her eyes, Lucifer is above her, grinning at her like the proverbial cat, but it’s not just the smugness, however well deserved, there’s also something almost sparkling in his expression. Instead of contemplating it any further with whatever jelly substance he reduced her brain to, Chloe pulls him into a kiss, tasting herself on his tongue.

Lucifer keeps grinning, his fingers gently comb through the hair at her temple. The gesture makes Chloe’s chest feel so full, like flowers in spring, blooming bright and sweet.

“Tell me, Detective,” he purrs, seductive and beaming. He said she was light, but then so is he. “Was this better than you imagined?”

For reasons she doesn’t want to ponder, Chloe nods. His grin widens. But even if he’s gloating a little, it still feels like the bubbles of champagne. She has thought of this. And she knows he has too.

“Watching you come nearly made me lose it in my pants,“ Lucifer says, gleeful indignation coloring his voice as his lips brush hers. “That would’ve been embarrassing.”

“Really?”

He nods. “Not for me, of course. For anyone else. Clearly, I am not anyone else.” Though she asked about the former; she doesn’t bother correcting him. “Worry not, Detective, my refractory period is virtually nonexistent.”

She snorts. “I really wasn’t.” But it’s good to know. Even if she’s sure he’s exaggerating. The idea is seductive. If she were to have a list of all the things she’d like to do to him, making him, Lucifer Morningstar, lose control would definitely be on top of the list.

Maybe some horns, she thinks, then pauses; where did that come from? But he’s kissing her again, and annoyingly he’s still wearing pants, so whatever that was, it can wait to be unpacked later. Lucifer can’t.

Pushing at his shoulders, Chloe easily rolls him on his back before she goes to straddle him. Vague words about being addictive float to the front of her mind, which might be somewhat true, because she really doesn’t want to stop. 

She nips at his bottom lip before soothing it with her tongue, making Lucifer groan. The briefly satiated desire flares back to life at the sound. One of his hands finds hers, intertwining their fingers as she moves down his chest, mapping it out with her lips, making notes of his reactions. Lighty, she scratches a line down his side, and a shiver runs through him. Chloe smiles, he’s ticklish and it’s cute.

A stubborn hope kindles inside her, that this can lead to something wonderful, that they might both be in it for the long haul, that they can build a relationship; it’s small and fragile, the kind to avoid breathing directly at, but it’s there.

His muscles ripple under her touch. Chloe glances up at him as she works his belt loose, pops the button open, and carefully draws down the zipper. The lamps cast shadows, his eyes look night black and intense, sending a shiver down her back. She’s doing this to him.

It’s endlessly fortunate they have the house to themselves. The moan that almost borders on pain but is sheer pleasure ripped from the depth of him when Chloe takes him in her mouth, might be heard from the outside. She can’t help smiling as her hand wraps firmly around the base to assist. Holding his gaze, Chloe licks a broad line up the head, like a lollipop, and Lucifer huffs out a laugh. It immediately turns into a breathless moan when she sucks at him again.

The sounds he makes guide her until she feels his hands pull her up. “I know I said my refractory period is not an issue, but I really need to be inside you right now.”

Chloe grins, the thrill of power flows through her veins like a sweet wine. “You were.”

He nearly rolls his eyes; it would have more of an effect if he didn’t look so wrecked. Because of her. “You know exactly what I mean, Detective. I promise, you can play with your new toy whenever you want later.”

The flame of hope flickers, growing just a little bit brighter.

She leans closer, and Lucifer doesn’t hesitate to kiss her. Yes, she really wants to keep him. “Do you want to be on top?”

“I don’t bloody give a damn.” Neither does she, but he’s pretty big, and she’s already on top, so might as well.

Raising up on her knees, Chloe takes him in hand and slowly begins to lower herself. When she looks up, his gaze is dark and awed and glued to her face; she expects to feel self conscious, yet the feeling is nowhere to be found. He slips a hand behind her neck and pulls her in for a kiss once he’s inside her. And then, slowly, she begins to move.

A sound falls from his lips that goes straight to her core, making her clench involuntary. She pushes on his shoulders until he lies back; his hands gripping her thighs help her move until she finds a perfect rhythm. Like a well oiled machine, they race towards the finish line. His fingers find her clit, rubbing in tight circles, and she cries out. Lucifer grins, she wipes the smirk off his face with a roll of her hips. He raises his knees for leverage, bumping her forward, changing the angle, and suddenly she's right on the edge again. 

The release covers her like a wave. Pressing her face into his neck, Chloe feels him follow her moments later. His arms wrap tighter around her, making it hard to breathe, yet she doesn’t want him to ever let go. Lucifer’s chest moves rapidly, rocking her. An occasional aftershock runs through her body, each one draws breathless sounds from him.

When Chloe finally pulls back, the image of him, disheveled and dazed, sears itself into her memory forever. No words come, so she simply leans in to kiss him. A starkly different kiss than the previous ones. Softer, lacking any urgency. Unexpectedly, it makes her think of home.

They should shower. Later. The kiss ends and they rearrange themselves on her admittedly not as large as she’d like bed. With her head pillowed on his chest and Lucifer’s arms around her, gently tracing feather light patterns on her back and arm, it feels like home.

“D’you wanna come with me tomorrow?” Chloe whispers when her heart beats a steady pace once again. She’d really like his support in the courtroom.

“I want to come with you every day.” She snorts. His fingers pause their movements. “You weren’t talking about sex, were you?”

“No.” But she’ll definitely remember that. The flame of hope sparks brighter. “Tomorrow is the first day of the trial of Perry Smith.”

“Oh. Oh that. I knew that. I didn’t know that. Why didn’t I know that?”

She lifts up her head, leveling him with a look. “Maybe because you were playing Candy Crush when I told you?”

A sheepish smile stretches his lips. “Or maybe it’s because you never told me?”

“Maybe,” she allows and kisses him. Lucifer smiles. “Anyhow, my mom’s flying in early.” She’s gonna love this, Chloe thinks. And if her mom somehow guesses they’ve slept together… Actually, maybe Lucifer should stay home.

“Oh, Penelope’s coming too”—Chloe cringes, and Lucifer pokes her in the rib—“well, darling, you started it.”

Darling. It sounds nice, rolling off his tongue. 

“One of us should really finish it.”

“You mean both of us, of course.”

“Lucifer…“

Reaching out, he turns off one lamp, then rolls over her, squishing her for a moment, to get to the one on her side. “Sleep first, sex later, Detective. You humans need your beauty sleep. Don’t let it ever be said that I am not an attentive Devil.”

In the near darkness if not for the street light filtering in, relaxed to the point of weightlessness, everything feels almost outside of time. In a good way. Closing her eyes, Chloe wriggles closer, sighing contentedly when his arms assist her movement.

Teetering on the edge between the two worlds, she places her hand over his heart, feeling its steady rhythm. “Wake me up at six?” Chloe murmurs, trying to convince herself that she is not really asking him if he’ll still be here tomorrow. After a beat, Lucifer presses his lips to the top of her head. 

“Of course.”

And Chloe smiles.